Can't Run Fast Enough
by Mikkal
Summary: The Doctor knows he can never run fast enough from his nightmares. They always seem to find him, even if they're in different forms. Shameless Doctor!Whump. A little Rory!Whump as well.


Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. Though I do own series 2 through 6 and a TARDIS t-shirt. Does that count? No? Darn!

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Can't Run Fast Enough

Mikkal

_ Summary: _The Doctor knows he can never run fast enough away from his nightmares. They always seem to find him, even if they're in different forms. Shameless Doctor!Whump. A little Rory!Whump as well.

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The door splintered and cracked, one more solid kick sent it shattering. The two of them froze at the door way, staring at the white, bland room. They spotted him at the same time, blood running cold at the sight of the crumpled figure.

'_Doctor!'_ Amy shouted.

Rory ran ahead of his wife to the down alien's side, frantically trying to find that double-beat pulse. He sighed in relief when he found it faint, but there.

Amy kneeled next to him, cheeks bright red with fear and worry. 'What's wrong with him? Why isn't he moving?'

He frowned and sat back on his heels. 'I don't know.'

The Doctor was curled in a loose ball, arms reaching up as if to protect his head. He stared blankly at nothing, eyes half-lidded and uncomfortably empty. Rory touched his shoulder gently, flinching when he whimper.

'Doctor,' Amy said softly, urgently. 'Doctor, what's wrong?'

He whimpered again and curled up tighter, fingers tangling in his hair. He whispered a strange word in a raspy voice. It was beautiful and otherworldly. It made blood roar in his ears and breath catch in his chest. It broke his heart and put tears in his eyes.

'I've always wanted to try my experiments on someone like him,' a haunting, disembodied voice said smugly. 'Someone with a biology as advanced as his. The fact that he's a Time Lord was just a plus. Gave me the perfect chance to try out my _Nightmare Child_.'

The Doctor suddenly cried out, scrambling back until he hit the wall. His eyes were wide and tears ran down his cheeks. He clasped his hands over his mouth in an attempt to muffle a sob, shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Rory crouched low in front of the former imaginary friend, swallowing thickly. He had no idea what to do, completely in over his head. This wasn't the Doctor he knew and managed to grow fond of. The one who was all smiles and endless words with his bow ties and floppy hair. This was a broken man who needed to be fixed. He was definitely not qualified for this sort of thing.

'Hey, it's okay,' he said in a tone he hoped was comforting. He felt Amy grab his arm in a vice grip. 'Doctor, it's us. We're here. It's Amy and Rory.'

He shook his head frantically. 'No, no," he muttered. "No, no, _no_.'

'You won't be able to fix him,' said the voice. 'My Child did what it was suppose to do, but the Time Lord has an incredibly strong reaction to it. Amazing, really.' There was an amused hum. 'Poor, poor Time Lord. So many memories, so many regrets. So. Many. _Nightmares_.'

The Doctor sobbed again, head falling to his knees and arms pulling his legs close to his body. He rocked pathetically, back and forth. Not listening, not hearing.

'What did you do to him?' Amy shouted, glaring at the ceiling in hate.

The voice chuckled. 'Weren't you listening, human? I did hardly anything. It's all the Time Lord.'

The Doctor let out a hoarse scream. 'Get out! Get out!' He clawed at this head, forcing Rory to grab his writs before he hurt himself.

He was almost thrown to the side by the alien's thrashing. 'You have to calm down!' Rory said firmly. 'Nothing's there. There's nothing in your head!' He fell backwards, bringing the other man with him. They laid sprawled on the ground in a heap, the Doctor's face buried in his chest like a scared child.

'Where are you?' Amy growled, turning her fear and worry into pure, protective anger. 'Tell me where you are so I can rip out your throat!'

'Amy,' Rory said, trying to calm her before she did something she'd regret. He didn't dare move from his spot to reach out for her. The Doctor was still laying on him with his shoulders shaking and his fingers gripping the human's shirt. He was silent, though, no matter how hard he sobbed.

The red head collapsed back down and threaded her hand through his husband's hair. 'What are we going to do?' She asked. 'How are we suppose to save him?'

He shook his head slightly, grabbing her hand carefully. 'I don't know,' he murmured. Nurses weren't trained to deal with the psychological problems of an alien more than 900 years old.

The Doctor suddenly looked up at him, eyes half-lidded again and swirling with cold fire and burning pain. He reached out with a trembling hand and spoke a fleeting whisper of 'I'm sorry' before he rested his finger tips on Rory's forehead.

_. No choice. Pleasepleasejuststop. You have to. Don'tmakemedon't. Orders. Firepaintorture. No, don't make me._

There was screaming, hysterical screaming, and it took Rory a moment to realise that _he _was the one screaming.

_ War. Pain. Death. The Last. Killed. My fault. Alone. So alone. Nightmare. Memories._

Amy was shouting his name, shaking his shoulder. Pleading, begging.

_ Please forgive me._

And then he was free, shoved back into the relative present, panting heavily like he just ran for his life. His cheeks were wet and his throat burned. Rory's eyes shot open and the first thing he saw was the Doctor staring down at him, apologetic and scared. 'D-Doctor,' he croaked. 'I...I...'

'Sorry,' he whispered again back at him before his eyes rolled and he passed out, listing to the side.

Rory grabbed him and sat up shakily. He couldn't stop crying. He couldn't believe—couldn't even being to imagine. The Doctor, oh God, the Doctor. _That_ was the "bad day" Amy told him about? How was he not completely and utterly mad yet?

'Rory? Rory! What happened?'

He swallowed past the lump in his throat. '...the Last Great Time War,' he said quietly, almost inaudible.

Her eyebrows furrowed together in surprise. '_What_? How? Did you see—?'

How could he explain? How could he explained the war that consumed the Doctor's family and friends, his people and his culture? How could he explain the endless cycle of death and rebirth that turned to sacrifice and bloodshed? How could he put into words the role the Doctor had in the destruction of his own planet?

She may have heard the story, but that was _nothing_ like the memories.

'I can't,' he whispered. 'I can't.' He sobbed a little. 'Oh God, _I can't.'_

The room shut down, walls turning from white to black and a burst of static sounded before the furthest wall cracked down the middle like a screen of a telly...which it probably was. The sound of the sonic screwdriver filled the air. Rory let out a half-mad chuckled. Finally, _finally_ the Doctor's plan worked. They were home free.

He slowly got to his feet, making sure his legs would support him before he tried rushing. 'Come on,' he said, wincing at the way his voice cracked. 'Let's go before the system starts up again.'

They were a complete mess as they stumbled down the hallways and staggered around corners. If there were any guards hiding behind walls they were so screwed, but it seemed the voice seemed very sure this place was inescapable. Amy, sweet, beautiful Amy, was holding up most of the Doctor's deadweight—no, not dead. Never dead—while Rory had problems with his own unsteady feet.

Soon enough the TARDIS came into view, the door opening on it's own when they got close enough. They barely made it in, tripping over the lip of the entryway, and falling to the ground as soon at the door shut and locked. He had no idea where the Doctor's room was and neither did Amy so they just decided to stay right there.

A lever flipped and a knob twisted, the familiar (de)materialization sound told them they were moving, probably to the Time Vortex for some much needed rest and gathering of wits.

Rory leaned against the wall and rested his head on Amy's shoulder, the Doctor's head was on his lap and he threaded his fingers through the man's fringe in an attempt to comfort him and distract himself. He needed contact, with anyone. He needed something to ground him to right here, right now.

She put her cheek against his head and rubbed a thumb over his knuckles. 'You okay?'

He sighed. 'I think so.' Besides, he wasn't the one they needed to worry about. He only got flashes of the War, the Doctor lived it and just got the whole thing again in less than four hours. 'I'm more worried about the Doctor.'

Amy leaned over and peered at the Doctor's face. It was disconcerting to seem him so still. She pushed his hair out of his face, he looked like he was sleeping and physically ten years younger, but, yet, so old as well. 'Doctor,' she whispered hesitantly. 'Please wake up.'

Nothing happened. Disappointment was clear on her face. Rory squeezed her hand, breathing deeply. The memories shoved into his mind were fading now, but the emotions still stayed strong.

The Doctor shot up with a great gasp of air.. He looked around wildly, inching away from them without realising what he was actually doing. He paused for a moment and blinked, the clouds clearing. He rubbed his temple once before shooting to his feet and hopping over to the console, fairly steady. 'Alright then! Never going there again. So, where to now?' He looked at them expectantly.

Amy and Rory gaped at him, hardly believing what they were hearing.

'What?' The Doctor demanded.

The other man struggled to his feet. 'You can't honestly be thinking about flying off into another adventure!'

'Why not?' The Doctor looked truly confused. He grimaced. 'You can't be referring to what just happened? It was nothing! Everything's fine now.' He turned to the controls, tinkering with some knobs.

'Doctor.' Amy grabbed his arm and met his startled eyes evenly. 'The _name_ of that thing freaked you out almost as much as the nightmares. Why?'

He ripped away from her, hands clenching into fists. 'Memories,' he muttered. 'Not nightmares, memories. I've told you about it, the Time War...the Last Great Time War.' He shuddered, but shied away from Amy's comfort. 'I usually push it back, move on, but that creature...It wasn't the same one, but my people created a an abomination called the Nightmare Child. Horrifying doesn't begin to cover it.'

Rory frowned. 'How'd it get here?' Fleeting images flashed across his mind's eye and he swallowed back a wave of fear. 'The war's in a Time Lock, isn't it?'

The Doctor gave him a surprisingly heated glare. 'Don't you listen? I said it wasn't the same one. It was just something with the same name.' He slammed his hands on the console, fringe shading his eyes as he shoulders shook. 'Just a damn creature with the same _damnable _name.'

Amy tried to get him to meet her eyes again, only to have her heart break at the sight of tears threatening to fall. 'Oh Doctor,' she sighed, pulling him into a tight hug.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and clung to her, face buried in the crook of her neck, but he didn't break down and cry. Amy rubbed soothing circles on his back, resting her cheek on his head. Her eyes met her husband's helplessly.

What could they do?

'Don't do anything,' the Doctor murmured. 'There's nothing you can do.'

She let out a rough chuckle. 'What have I told you about reading my thoughts?'

'Not to?' She felt him smile against her skin. 'Besides, I wasn't reading your thoughts. You two are pretty obvious.'

'If we're obvious,' Rory said. 'Then what am I thinking right now?'

There was a moment of pause before the Doctor shook his head. 'I don't want to rest,' he all but whined. He glanced up from his hug. 'But _you _should.'

Rory rolled his eyes. 'Doctor—'

'No,' he said. 'You should rest. Those memories were mine, I _shoved_ them into your head...without permission.'

He blinked. 'Oh...to be honest. I kinda forgot about that.'

The Doctor stared at him. 'You..._forgot_?' He grinned a little ghost of a grin. 'That's good...well, you didn't actually _forget_. They just aren't your memories so they fade faster. Unless you have an infostamp and a rapid succession of unfortunate events. Which, from what I've experienced, make the memories relatively stuck. Well, they do semi-fade over time.'

'Doctor,' Rory said gently. 'You're babbling.'

He paused. 'Am I?' His shoulders sagged a little. 'Oh.'

Amy pulled him away to get a full look at him, thinking hard. 'How 'bout, since neither of you want to rest like normal people, we head to the library and I make some tea? Read a few books and be British.'

The Doctor at least agreed to that, albeit silently. He seemed to not want to talk after he got called on his could-be-called-frantic babbling. Amy walked ahead of them as the three of them trekked the rather short way to the kitchen. Rory walked a little in front of the Doctor when, suddenly, he latched onto his arm in a flash of panic.

'I _am _sorry,' he said quietly, not meeting the former Roman's eyes. 'I was confused and...and scared. My time sense thought you were another Time Lord, your mind being almost 2,00 years old and all. It couldn't handle the memories and my instinct to share the psychic burden made me...I'm so sorry.'

Rory smiled softly. 'There's nothing to be sorry for, Doctor.' He didn't even think about taking the Time Lord's hand off of him and just kept walking. 'Come on, Amy's going to go mental if we take too long.'

His lips twitched in a smile. 'Lead the way, Rory the Roman.'

Most of the time Rory felt so small, so insignificant compared to the 900 plus genius who just so happened to be an alien that could travel through time and space./ But then there were moments like these, rare ones (thank God) that made him realize that the Doctor relied on his companions just as much as they relied on him.

An Rory was willing to have the raggedy man rely on him, his Roman skills weren't being put to good use so might as well use them for someone who meant the world to him and his wife. He was willing to let the Doctor run away from his memories and nightmares just as long as he had Rory and Amy there to help him run faster.


End file.
